


Watched

by julidoesnotwrites (notjuli)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cemetery, Comfort, Cuddles, Death, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-12 12:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19132369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjuli/pseuds/julidoesnotwrites
Summary: John usually felt he was being watched, followed. And he usually was.





	Watched

**Author's Note:**

> This work is not Beta-ed not Brit-picked and English is not my first language, so if you notice any errors please do leave a comment letting me know

John usually felt he was being watched, followed.

And he usually was.

In the very beginning it was Mycroft -or his people- through the CCTVs. Then, occasionally, it was actually Mycroft's people following him, sometimes by car, sometimes walking a few meters behind him, whenever Mycroft wanted something from him.

Then, it took him a while to notice, he realised he was also being watched by Sherlock's people; his homeless network, usually keeping an eye out for him. And on some occasions Sherlock himself would follow him, for whatever reason, he knew better than to ask.

Whenever he was walking around in some of the less nice neighborhoods in London he usually saw the few CCTVs in the area turn around to follow him. Sometimes one of Mycroft's people would suddenly appear around him, and usually a few homeless people would walk on the opposite side of the street, just keeping an eye out for him.

He -eventually- got used to it. He was used to the feeling of being watched, followed.

Sometimes it felt different. He couldn't exactly explain how, or why, but sometimes it felt- not safe. And he knew he was in trouble then. He tried to stay in view of as many CCTVs as he could, but he knew trouble was inevitable. Three times he ended up kidnapped, twice he almost did, and there were a lot of attempted robberies.

So today, he knew he was being followed. He wasn't exactly sure by whom, but he didn't care much either. Probably Mycroft's people.

He left work early, already dreading the rest of his day and walked home even if the day was not the best for a walk and his shoulder ached already.

When he got to 221B he quickly changed out of his work clothes and into a nice dark blue shirt with pale gray details and his nicest shoes (date shoes, Sherlock called them) and left quickly again, leaving his phone there. He wouldn't need it for a while and didn't fancy Sherlock bothering him right now.

He took the tube until the last station and from there he took a cab. He got out a bit before his arrival and walked through the small town, stopping only by the florist, the same one from oh so many years ago. He bought a nice bouquet of Jasmine and resumed his short walk.

Once he was back outside he noticed he was being followed again. He didn't care, but he would text Mycroft later and tell him to piss off.

He passed through the big gates only shivering once and made his way down the well known path. He breathed deeply while he walked the last few meters and stopped dead in his tracks.

“Hey Mum,” He said quietly to the tombstone in front of him and took a seat on the grass. “Happy birthday,” He said and placed the flowers down.

He sat there, in silence, for a while, sorting out everything he wanted to say.

“It's been a while,” He started. “I'm sorry I missed your last two birthdays.” He sighed. “A lot has happened since I last talked to you mum. Remember Sherlock? That I told you about him and- and how he died? Well, turns out he's not... dead. Very not dead in fact.” A few moments passed. “And remember that girl, Mary, I told you about? That I was thinking of proposing? Well...  I did propose but- well, a lot happened. She- We did get married but she turned out to not be who she said she was, then she was pregnant and then she died." He took a calming breath. "The- The baby is ok Mum, don't worry.

“But yes, I- I am a father now Mum, I have a kid and she's beautiful. You  would love her, Rosie, she's amazing. I wanted to name her after you, but she already has your surname you know. Yes, I'm still using Watson, I told you I would never regret changing it and I never did. I'm your son, I want your surname, not  _ his _ . We are not discussing this again Mum.

“I- I miss you Mum. I wish you were here, you could meet Rosie, Sherlock. She is beautiful and he- He is doing so much for me Mum. He has done so much for me. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him Mum, he is amazing, he is everything. I- You would have loved him, you would have found him so funny. He's clueless about so many things Mum, you would've laughed so much. And yes, he is horribly ignorant about so many things and such a bloody genius about others, but he is- he does so much for me Mum. For Rosie, for the people he cares about. He's got one of the biggest hearts I've ever encountered Mum, he's around your level! But he's clueless Mum. He's an idiot. I- I think I love him Mum. Well, no, I do love him. But it's not  _ like that _ Mum, we don't do things like that. But he's the most important person in my life, with Rosie, and it's terrifying Mum, to care so much about someone.

“But things are good. I moved back to 221B, we are living together again, with Rosie this time. She is growing so fast Mum, it's shocking. He is a saint with her, they love each other, they are both fascinated with each other, it's amazing to watch. Everything is good now Mum.

“I talked with Harry this week, she said she couldn't come and see you today but she'd try to come down, maybe this weekend... She is doing better now Mum. I know you worry, so do I. But she is doing better now, she hasn't had a drop of alcohol in almost eleven months now Mum, that's the longest in the past ten years, at least. We are talking more now too, communicating, as you always said. She gave Rosie for her first birthday this awful sweater she said it reminded her of me when I was one,” he chuckled a bit. “I think she's referring to the one that was hers first and that you always said I loved so much I wouldn't ever take it off. We are getting soft with age I guess. She is going to be fifty soon Mum! And then I will! God, wow.”

He spent almost two hours there, sitting on the ground until half his bones ached, talking about everything and anything he could think about. By the end it was already starting to get dark and he was a bit of a mess, tearstained and all. He got up, said his goodbyes and walked back to the entrance.

When he was just a few meters away from the gate he saw a tall and lanky figure resting against the wall looking at him.

“Ah,” he said, “so it was you. Thought it was one of Mycroft's minions.” He ran his hands over his face imagining the disaster that he must look like.

“Good evening John,” greeted Sherlock. “I- er... I hope you don't mind, I didn't want to interrupt you, but I guessed you wouldn't want to take a cab now, so there's one of Mycroft's cars waiting for us.”

“Yes, alright, let's go.” And they walked silently to the car. They rode in silence for a while when John spoke up again, “She would have liked you, you know. She would've found you hilarious.” Sherlock looked surprised at this.

“I would have liked you two to meet,” he said gloomily.

“Ah- er... Would you- Would you like a hug John?” Asked awkwardly Sherlock after a few moments.

John chuckled lightly. “Yes please,” he said.

Sherlock turned to face John better and wrapped his lanky arms around his shoulders, John wrapping his own around Sherlock's middle, his face ending up buried on his chest, Sherlock's on top of his own. It was a bit awkward, especially because of the position in the car seats, but it was ok, it was just what John needed. Sherlock, knowing this, rubbed circles on John's back and mumbled chemical formulas, aware of how John found his voice calming.

They stayed like that until John's back ached from the position, so he sat up straight again and leaned into Sherlock's side -he didn't quite reach his shoulder. Sherlock dropped his arm around John's shoulders hugging him close and they didn't say a word for the rest of the ride, John almost dozing off.

When they arrived home -that's what 221B was, no question there- Sherlock instructed John to go sit on his chair for a bit while he ran a bath for him. While waiting for the bath to be ready Sherlock popped the kettle and started making tea.

After a few minutes he helped John out of his clothes and into the bath and came back a moment later with a cup of tea, perfectly made for John's tastes. John was completely and utterly drained and didn't complain at all.

While John was in the bath, Sherlock went downstairs to get Rosie from Mrs. Hudson. Thankfully, she was already asleep, so Sherlock put her down on her cot and went back to check on John, baby monitor on hand.

John let himself be washed, barely paying attention, mumbling a comment here and there.

Once they were done, Sherlock helped him up his feet and onto his pyjamas, and then into bed -Sherlock's bed. Sherlock placed the baby monitor on his nightstand and changed into his pyjamas, climbing into bed on his side, facing John's back. He hugged John from behind, hands on his chest and abdomen, John's over his own, and talked for a bit in a hushed tone until he felt John's breathing evening out.

And yes, John had a few of days like this, utterly draining, so emotional that left him exhausted past recognition. He'd always had days like this, but now he had people looking after him.

Now he had Sherlock looking after him. He knew that someone always had his back, someone was always watching him -both literally and figuratively.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thisisnotjuli) on my personal blog and [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fanishjuli) on my fandoms blog!


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